


Still

by BlackQat



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Command Training, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Jason Isaacs character, Jayne Brook character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21758806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackQat/pseuds/BlackQat
Summary: Just one of many tests for two friends ... survival training.
Relationships: Gabriel Lorca (Prime) and Katrina Cornwell
Kudos: 7





	Still

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my "Two Gifts" universe

Hands bound behind his back, ankles strapped together, shoved feet-first into a swimming pool three meters deep, but managing a deep inhale on the way in: For almost a minute, Lieutenant Gabriel Lorca thinks he is going to die.

_But why would they kill you at Command Training School?_

_On the other hand, do you really want to have a near-death drowning experience today?_

He imagines his friend Jhimal laughing, “Try this in an icy fjord on Andor, Pinkskin.”

The water is chilly. His feet have touched bottom but he is struggling now, trying to free himself from his bonds. Struggling all the more because his feet are no longer touching bottom. He’s trying to move like a fish to get to the surface, but it’s not working any more than trying to wriggle out of the wrist bindings. _Most logical to free your feet. Work on that._ But they’re securely fastened together and the strap is thick, not stretchable. His knees are angling every which way and he feels panic beginning, “Cool-Head Lorca” no more.

_What possible lesson is there in this?_

So far his most panic-inducing moment has been giving a persuasive speech on a chosen subject in front of the instructors and his fellow trainees. He does not enjoy public speaking. That’s for politicians, blowhards and scientists. He respects Kat for her expertise at it, but he just likes to get straight to the point, not wind in toward it, building a case.

His wide-open eyes see Kat, descending into the water like the point of a knife, her outbreath great, glistening bubbles in the light. She grows absolutely still; her feet touch bottom and her body begins a slow ascent, during which she stays nearly motionless. She is near enough that she can feel waves of motion from Gabriel’s struggles. She opens her eyes, looks into his, and slightly shakes her head. Continues ascending …

Lorca grows still, praying this will work. _She’s allowing the “bounce” to take her up where she can breathe. Do it._ That’s what her head shake meant. _Don’t struggle._

As he quiets his movements, his muscle density carries him slowly to the bottom. He waits until his feet are nearly flat and pushes off from the balls of his feet, lungs nearly bursting now, and at last, his head breaks through the water’s surface. At last, a gulp of air, but … _shit. Down again …._

This is the lesson, he thinks, making your body behave under extreme pressure/panic. So he relaxes; he knows that tension only hurts his abilities in target practice scenarios and in situations when he and a team may have to deal with hostiles. Panic is no state for someone in charge in a dangerous situation.

He feels calm flowing through him. Momma Lurlene taught him meditation in his early teens. Although his birth mom, Mildred, pretends Lurlene is a “flake,” loving her “in spite of it,” Lurlene taught young Gabriel the skill of “losing his mind.”

The busy mind, the “what-if” mind, that mind that can defeat us if we listen to it too much. As he matured, Lorca became a _do_ -er; that, he inherited from his mother. Occasionally though, he got stopped in his tracks by an emotional storm of anger (usually brought on by an encounter with his bio-dad). It was then that Lurlene began teaching him the skill of stillness, of stepping outside the thinking/ strategizing mind.

He calls on that skill, and gets through the exercise. Fifteen minutes or so of this sink-and-rise, and several command prospects are pulled gasping from the water. Lying on their stomachs, bedraggled, coughing the water out, choking on it, a few cursing. Some have finally found the equilibrium, but early panic made them lose control and precious energy; other candidates have totally panicked and had to be rescued from drowning. The former will get two more chances at the exercise, but if they don’t maintain enough calm, they’ll be out of Command Track. The latter, unfortunately, will be heading back to their assignments with no possibility of command.

He dries off, smiling across at Cornwell and nodding his thanks. Remembering the smile they exchanged underwater the third time down.  
  


_Maybe I should ask her out._

He nods to himself and heads her way. _Yep, sink or swim._


End file.
